


Before and After

by asroarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And they were soulmates, Angst, Drunk!Clarke, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grand Romantic Gestures, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Bellamy, Slow Burn, Weddings, aka another episode of the worst possible place you could find your soulmate, artist!Clarke, bellamy is so far gone it's not even funny, drunk!bellamy, jealous!Bellamy, light internet stalking, minor Flarke, oh my god they were soulmates, really minor i swear, the pining!bellamy is strong with this one, the world is in black and white unless you're near your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/pseuds/asroarke
Summary: Something strange happened. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the dresses the bridesmaids wore looked a bit less gray than before. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what was going on with his eyes. Blue, he realized. That is what blue must look like. It was beautiful. Bellamy stumbled to his feet, his mind reeling from the fact that his soulmate must be here. It took him a beat too long to realize exactly who it had to be. There was only one person who just now walked into the room, and she was looking just as overwhelmed as Bellamy felt. She froze in place, her eyes scanning the room. When she finally looked in Bellamy’s general direction, he realized that her eyes were blue too.“You okay?” Miller whispered, and Bellamy nodded quickly. He was fine. He just found his soulmate and she was about to marry someone else right in front of him. Bellamy should have known that the universe would be this cruel.A Soulmate AU where you can only see color when you're in close proximity to your soulmate, and Bellamy found his right when she was supposed to marry someone else.





	Before and After

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic is just further proof that my entire writing process is a matter of me asking what the worst possible scenario would be for a given set up... this time I just asked what was the worst time to find your soulmate. The answer? At their wedding to someone else. Poor Bellamy.
> 
> Anyway, this was noooot supposed to get this long, but here we are. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to write this (looking at you discord delinquents). Hope you guys like it!!

The wedding was running a few minutes late, which was driving Bellamy bit more insane than it probably should. He had been having an easily irritated streak ever since he and Gina broke up a few months ago when she found her soulmate. He normally wasn’t such an impatient ass, but it wasn’t like a wedding was where he wanted to be right now. If anything in their stupid vows said anything about what it was like to see color for the first time, Bellamy was going to vomit.

“Will you stop that?” Miller groaned, smacking Bellamy’s leg as he continued to tap his foot impatiently. “You owe me, remember?”

Bellamy let out a huff. Bellamy figured he would make up for showing up at Miller’s apartment drunk off his ass by buying him a drink or helping him move. But instead, Miller drags him to Finn Collins’ wedding. “You knew what you were getting when you asked me to come to a wedding with you,” Bellamy reminded.

“Well, I would have brought Bryan but…” Miller sighed, and Bellamy bit his lip. He leaned over and patted Miller’s shoulder, knowing all too well how much it stung to have someone he loved find their soulmate.

“I’m a better wedding date anyway,” Bellamy deflected, nudging him with his shoulder.

“You’re a shit wedding date and you know it,” Miller teased, and Bellamy burst out laughing.

A little girl in front of them spun around and announced, “You shouldn’t swear in church.”

“She has a point, Miller,” Bellamy deadpanned, and Miller narrowed his eyes at him before turning to look at the girl.

“I am very sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said seriously, and Bellamy leaned back. He had a few more teasing remarks planned for Miller, but the music got louder, cuing the beginning of the ceremony.

The ring bearer and flower girls were easily Bellamy’s favorite part of the ceremony. He found himself grinning as the ring bearer helped one of the flower girls toss the petals. “Look who has a heart,” Miller whispered, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“If a wedding was all kids being cute and none of the soulmate nonsense, I’d come to a lot more of them,” Bellamy replied.

“Luckily for you, Finn and Clarke aren’t actually soulmates. So, you won’t have to suffer through that,” Miller replied.

“Thank fucking God,” Bellamy muttered, and the girl in front of them whipped her head around to glare at him. “Sorry,” Bellamy mouthed, and she turned back around.

A few more bridesmaids came in, and Bellamy heard from the couple behind them that their dresses were a pale blue. Bellamy wasn’t sure what that meant, though Octavia had tried to describe colors to him after she first met Lincoln. She had reassured him that one day he would get to see color too, but Bellamy wasn’t holding his breath. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in soulmates, or at least not for himself. He could see that what Octavia and Lincoln had was real. He knew that Gina wouldn’t just walk away from Bellamy if she didn’t see herself spending the rest of her life with her soulmate. But Bellamy… he just never had luck on his side, so he couldn’t imagine ever finding that person for himself.

There was a long break in the ceremony as everyone waited for the bride to enter, long enough that Finn actually looked nervous. “Runaway bride?” Bellamy whispered, and Miller shushed him. If she did run, he couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t imagine anyone agreeing to marry Finn Collins. Bellamy couldn’t imagine talking to him for more than five minutes, let alone agreeing to spend his life with him. If this girl was smart, she would run. 

Bellamy kept facing forward, watching the bridesmaids exchange panicked looks. But slowly, something strange happened. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the dresses the bridesmaids wore looked a bit less gray than before. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what was going on with his eyes. _Blue_ , he realized. That is what blue must look like. It was beautiful.

When he dragged his eyes away from the dresses, he could see the differing shades of hair color of the bridesmaids. He could see bright, vibrant colors in their bouquets. Bellamy was so overwhelmed by just how much color surrounded him that he didn’t notice everyone was standing up until Miller started tugging at his jacket.

Bellamy stumbled to his feet, his mind reeling from the fact that his soulmate must be here. But it took him a beat too long to realize exactly who it had to be. There was only one person who just now walked into the room, and she was looking just as overwhelmed as Bellamy felt. She froze in place, her eyes scanning the room. When she finally looked in Bellamy’s general direction, he realized that her eyes were blue too. Her hair was bright, a similar color as one of the flowers in her bridesmaids’ bouquets.

She was too beautiful, his soulmate. Dressed all in white like some kind of angel, like something far too beautiful for this ugly world. Bellamy couldn’t stop looking at her.

It wasn’t until she resumed walking forward that Bellamy realized what this meant. He found his soulmate on the day she married someone else. It wasn’t like he could just call out to her and say that he’s her soulmate. She wouldn’t just abandon someone she promised to marry, even if Finn wasn’t her soulmate. Clearly, she didn’t hold soulmates to be that important, not if she agreed to marry Finn without finding hers. But the way that she kept looking around, looking for him… it told him that this girl never had hope that she would find him either.

“You okay?” Miller whispered, and Bellamy nodded quickly. He was fine. He just found his soulmate and she was about to marry someone else right in front of him. Bellamy should have known that the universe would be this cruel.

They took their seats once she met Finn at the end of the aisle, and Bellamy found himself holding his breath every time she looked back into the crowd, clearly looking for him. But her eyes never met his. There were too many people here. She’d probably never figure out who it was… and maybe that was for the best. Bellamy was already cursed with knowing, but it’d be easier for her to keep living her life if she never knew it was him.

Bellamy studied her closely as the service went on, noticing that she couldn’t be much older than Octavia. Honestly, she was a bit too young to be getting married. He vaguely recalled Miller telling him the story of how she and Finn ended up together. There was something about his girlfriend moving away and he thought they had broken up, only for his girlfriend to show back up when he was already with this girl under the impression that they were still together. “What’s her name again?” Bellamy whispered, leaning toward Miller.

“Clarke Griffin,” he said, and Bellamy nodded along. _Clarke_. His soulmate’s name is Clarke.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t take his eyes off her during the reception. She seemed to be on edge, her smiles were a bit forced. Bellamy suspected part of that was because she knew that her soulmate was one of the three hundred guests at her wedding and she couldn’t figure out who it was. But he also suspected that something else was off. She and Finn weren’t actually together much during the reception. She seemed to keep herself busy in conversation, while Finn was off drinking with his friends. The only times he saw them together were during their first dance, where both of them seemed to have forced smiles plastered on their faces, and during the toasts, where there was a bit too much distance between them.

Bellamy shook his head. He was probably reading too much into this. He didn’t have a chance with her. She literally just married someone else. He forced himself to stop looking at her, directing his attention back to the table where Miller was talking with this girl who Bellamy vaguely recognized.

“I just can’t believe you showed up,” Miller snorted, and the girl finished off her drink before slamming the glass onto the table.

“I came out of spite,” she smirked, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Oh, sorry. I’m Raven, Finn’s ex,” she said as she grabbed Miller’s drink out of his hand.

“So, you’re the girl who—”

“Yep,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“She is who I go to for talking shit about Finn,” Miller explained, and Bellamy nodded along. “Seriously though, why did you come to this?”

“Figured I might as well support Clarke. I actually like her,” Raven replied, and slowly, the dark color of Raven’s dressed started to fade to a dark gray. Bellamy’s head snapped up, looking for Clarke, but she was nowhere to be seen. The entire room was devoid of color again, and Bellamy bit his lip. He missed the color already. The room felt cold without it.

He completely missed Miller getting up to get another drink, only snapping back into focus when Raven slid over to the seat beside Bellamy. “So, what are you doing after this?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“No plans that I’m aware of,” he muttered, his eyes still scanning the room for any sign of Clarke coming back in. He just wanted to see color one more time. He needed more time to memorize what it’s like.

“Want to get out of here?” she asked, and Bellamy blinked a few times as he looked back at her. She was pretty and sarcastic, the exact kind of girl he normally goes for. But it felt weird, knowing that his soulmate was actually out there.

Then, he remembered that his soulmate just married someone else. He was only going to see color this one time in his life, and it was going to have to be enough for him. He didn’t even know Clarke. He certainly didn’t owe her anything.

So, he said, “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

He woke up to the sound of Raven quietly getting dressed. “You don’t have to go,” Bellamy whispered, sitting himself up.

“I don’t spend the night,” she said, and Bellamy threw his head back. “Nothing personal.”

“God, Finn must have fucked you up,” Bellamy muttered without thinking.

“Coming home to find your boyfriend screwing another girl will do that to you,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said quickly as she tugged her shoes back on. “How the hell did he and Clarke even end up getting married?” Bellamy asked, cocking his head to the side. He couldn’t wrap his head around her marrying him. It wasn’t like he expected her to run out of the church as soon as she realized she had a soulmate or anything, but it gave her pause… like she was almost thinking about it. There was something so off about her.

“I don’t know,” Raven huffed, looking up at him. “I mean, he was her first ever boyfriend and she loves him. She must have believed him when he said he didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Bellamy felt uneasy as Raven walked out the door. He remembered how determined Octavia was that Atom was the love of her life, and had Bellamy not been there to remind Octavia what a horrible boyfriend he was, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up marrying him. He hoped that this was different for Clarke. He wasn’t optimistic, but the least he could do was hope for her to be happy.

 

* * *

 

He tried not to let Clarke slip into his mind much. There were still the inevitable nights where the curiosity got the better of him and he stalked her on Facebook and Instagram. There were those nights at Octavia’s where she would ask Lincoln to hand her the blue binder, and Bellamy would remember that he’s pretty sure blue was his favorite color.

But for the most part, Bellamy went on with his life just like Clarke seemed to be. His love life was kind of a disaster, but that was because of Gina, not Clarke. He didn’t even know Clarke, despite the information that he had been mentally storing away when he came across some of her posts online. Maybe Bellamy just felt a little responsible for her. After all, she was his soulmate, whatever that meant for them. Maybe if they had met before her wedding day, she might not have ended up married to Finn Collins. So, he felt like he had to keep checking in on her to make sure she was okay.

From what he could tell, she and Finn had a great time on their honeymoon. He ignored the feeling of jealousy in his stomach when he would stumble onto pictures of the two of them, reminding himself that he had no claim on Clarke. In fact, he had never met Clarke.

A few weeks after their wedding, Clarke had an art show that she was endorsing on Instagram. On a night where Bellamy had a bit too much to drink, he found himself clicking the link and going through a slideshow of her online portfolio. He found himself slack jawed as he went through her works, in awe of the sheer beauty she was able to capture. He kept clicking links, going further and further back into her portfolio to her earlier work. He barely noticed that he had stayed up until two in the morning looking through her paintings, trying to learn whatever he could about her. It wasn’t until he found himself wondering what these paintings would look like in color that he remembered to snap out of it. He would never see them in color. He would never be close enough to Clarke to see color again, and that was how it needed to be. She was married. She didn’t need a soulmate. She chose one, and Bellamy had to make peace with that. 

The next night, he gave his number to a girl named Roma while out with Murphy and Miller. But even as he and Roma texted through the next day, he still found himself checking Clarke’s Instagram again, feeling warm when he saw the brightest smile on her face in a photo from her show. He ignored Roma’s text about meeting up for dinner as he swiped through the photos, wondering why Clarke seemed to be taking photos with everyone but her husband. He shook that thought out of his head before it got away from him, reminding himself that Finn was probably who was taking all the photos. He closed out of the app before apologizing to Roma for taking so long to respond.

Bellamy couldn’t stay focused during his date, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world. Roma was gorgeous and funny, way too good for someone who couldn’t even pay attention to her. So, he wasn’t surprised when it all fell apart and they went their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Octavia realized something was going on with him and took it upon herself to help him get back out there, even though that was the absolute last thing Bellamy felt like doing. “It will be fun,” she huffed, crossing her arms. Bellamy glanced past her at Lincoln who had an amused look on his face.

“Ready for a third wheel?” he snorted, and Octavia groaned before throwing his jacket at him.

“You will have fun,” she demanded, spinning around on her heels for him to follow after her. Lincoln shot him an apologetic look, but Bellamy waved him off. He instead insisted on driving separately so he could take off when he couldn’t take any more of Octavia’s attempt of cheering him up.

She dragged him to a club, which she should have known was the last place he would want to go. But that didn’t stop her from pointing out every attractive girl she could find who seemed to be without a date. “I’m good, O,” he reassured, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Look, I told you. I’m just going through some stuff right now.”

“Gina—”

“This isn’t about Gina,” he snapped. This funk he had been in had been going on for too long for him to be able to blame this solely on Gina. In fact, he hadn’t even been thinking about her for the past few weeks.

It was more about his soulmate situation than anything. After all, Gina found her soulmate and was probably madly in love with him by now. But what about Bellamy? His soulmate married someone else before he even got the chance to say hello to her. And if what everyone around him says is true, then he missed out by not meeting Clarke before it was too late. Octavia and Lincoln were a perfect fit. So were Gina and her soulmate, if her breakup speech was anything to go by. Murphy found Emori last week, and he was already smitten and obnoxiously happy.

But when Bellamy found Clarke, all he got was a glimpse into something that he wasn’t ever going to have. He thought that with time he would get over it. After all, he wasn’t even sure if he believed in soulmates. But he didn’t get over it. He just… couldn’t get past it.

“No, Bell,” Octavia snapped, and he rolled his eyes. “Gina is here.”

Bellamy’s head snapped in the direction that Octavia was facing, seeing Gina out with some of her friends from work. “I’m out,” he said before Octavia yanked him back by his wrist.

“Are you serious right now?” she snapped, and Bellamy looked over at Lincoln, begging for him to back him up.

“If he wants to leave, let him,” Lincoln tried, but Octavia’s dark eyes stayed focused on him.

Bellamy let out a sigh, his eyes pleading with Octavia to just let this one go. “You know I didn’t want to come out anyway,” he started, and she bit her lip.

“Bell?” he heard Gina say, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut.

“Hey,” he forced himself to say as he turned around, and Gina pulled him in for a hug. Lincoln was shooting Octavia a warning look. “How are you?”

“Great, how are you?” she asked with a huge grin as she pulled away. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” When he looked at Octavia, there was an apology in her eyes. But it was already too late and Bellamy couldn’t get out of this conversation.

 

* * *

 

He nearly sprinted outside as soon as Gina got pulled away by one of her friends, sucking in a deep breath as he pressed his back to the brick wall. She didn’t bring up her soulmate, but that didn’t stop Bellamy from noticing the way her eyes would light up when she got a text. It didn’t hurt as much as he feared it would, but it was still a reminder of what she found that he was still without.

He sent Octavia a reassuring text, reminding her that he was fine. When he heard the door open, Bellamy turned into the alleyway beside the bar before Octavia would find him still there. After a few seconds, Bellamy peered his head around the corner to see that some guy in a red shirt came out of the bar, not his sister, and he let out a breath.

He was breathing easy again until he remembered _red_. He turned his head back around, seeing that same man walking out into the parking lot with a red shirt and dark blue pants… why was Bellamy seeing color?

He waited for a moment, wondering if Clarke was just driving by and that the color would fade away again… but it didn’t.

Clarke was somewhere nearby, and she was seeing color too. When he took a few steps toward the bar again, and the color began to fade. Without thinking, he stepped back into the color. He started walking up the street, passing two whole buildings before the color faded again. He turned back again, now stopping halfway between the two points. He turned in a circle, trying to figure out where the hell Clarke could be. None of the other businesses were open this late, and the restaurant was too far away for Bellamy to still see color if she were there.

He was about to turn back when he heard the quietest sniffle coming from behind the book store. Cautiously, Bellamy stepped toward the sound.

He saw the top of her head first, her golden hair almost blinding against her dark surroundings. She was seated on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees as she buried her face down into them. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Her head jerked up to look at him, her eyes red from crying as she tried to wipe away the flood of tears pouring down her cheeks. His chest panged at the sight. She was in a dark colored dress, her hair perfectly curled. He imagined her makeup would have been flawless too if it hadn’t been for the tears.

She narrowed her eyes up at him, studying him a little too closely for his comfort. Then, he remembered that he was just some strange man on the street approaching her, and he realized why she would be concerned. “I’m so sorry. I just… I heard you crying, and I wanted to make sure—” he started to ramble, running his fingers through his curls.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes widening. Bellamy’s mouth snapped shut. He had forgotten all about the color. But as soon as Clarke looked up at him, she must have noticed the color.

He must have hesitated too long with his answer because his silence was met with an even louder sob from Clarke. “Hey,” he pleaded, falling to his knees in front of her. He grabbed her hand without thinking, his hand melting into her warmth when she squeezed it. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she snapped, her blue eyes wide as she stared at him. Bellamy swallowed. He knew this wasn’t ideal. Bellamy obviously is not who Clarke would have chosen if they were allowed to choose their soulmates. He knew that. Just like he wouldn’t choose someone who was going to marry someone else. “I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled her hand from his, using her palm to push away some of her tears.

“I know I’m not who you wanted—”

“That’s not why I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at her knees again. She used her thumb to fiddle with her wedding ring nervously, and Bellamy pressed his lips together. _That_ was why she was sorry. She felt guilty. “You must hate me.”

“If I did, would I be in this alleyway with you asking you why you’re crying?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Her eyes shot up to his, and Bellamy could barely make out the blue in the dark. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, and he raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s stupid.”

“I highly doubt it,” he argued as she bit her lip, which he found a little too distracting given the circumstances.

“I got stood up tonight. It’s not a big deal,” she muttered.

“Husbands don’t typically stand up their wives,” he said, a hint of bitterness slipping into his tone by accident. If Clarke picked up on it, she didn’t say anything, thank God.

“He forgot to tell me that he had to work late. It’s not a big deal,” she explained, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. He pulled out his phone, asking Miller if Kane had kept Finn late tonight or not.

“I don’t think you would be crying if it wasn’t a big deal,” Bellamy said without thinking, and her eyes widened at him. He knew what this sounded like. But this wasn’t Bellamy’s jealousy talking. This was Bellamy knowing what kind of man Finn Collins was. He had a history of this kind of thing, the kind of history that Bellamy had hoped he would be done with when he actually married someone.

“Can you drop it?” she snapped, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut before nodding. She didn’t want to talk about this with him, a stranger. “I’m sorry but… I just,” she stuttered, throwing her head back, “this isn’t how anything was—”

“I know,” he apologized. This was why he wanted to stay away from her. Him being there was too much. He could see the guilt work its way through her. She had too much going on right now, and he was just making it more complicated. He was about to give her the speech he had been mentally preparing in case she did find out about him when he got a text back from Miller.

_Finn left work half an hour early, leaving me to do the presentation on my own._

Bellamy blinked a few times at the screen before looking up at Clarke, who was too busy tending to her own tears to see the panic take over Bellamy. If she was this upset now, he could only imagine how much this text would rip her heart out. And there was nothing Bellamy could do to fix it. She loved Finn, and this was going to hurt her. “I, uh, texted my friend Miller—”

“You came with Miller,” she sighed, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “To my wedding. You were his plus one. That’s why I couldn’t find you on the guest list,” she groaned. _She had been looking for him_.

“Right, yeah,” he stuttered out, shaking that realization out of his head for the moment. “You need to read this,” he remembered, handing his phone to her. She narrowed her eyes at him as she took it, before examining the screen. He knew the exact moment that she realized what was happening by the way her lips parted. The rest of her froze as he watched her eyes scan over the words again, almost double checking that she read it correctly. “I am so sorry,” he said, and he meant it. God, he meant it. Clarke didn’t deserve this. No, she deserved someone who would actually love her, who would be devoted to her, who wouldn’t even think about straying away from her.

She handed him his phone back without a word, before pushing herself up to her feet. Bellamy followed suit as she dusted herself off, the tears still present in her eyes. “I’m going home,” she mumbled.

“Can I at least walk you to your car? It’s late,” he said, and there was a bit of hesitation in Clarke’s eyes as she studied him.

“Okay,” she whispered, gesturing with her head for him to follow her as she dug her keys out of her purse. They walked in silence past the bookstore and the café, before crossing the street to reach the restaurant parking lot.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked as she slowed down, her car now in sight.

“Don’t worry about me,” she mumbled as she turned away, but Bellamy put his hand on her arm. Her eyes shot up to his, and for a moment, he feared that he had crossed a line with her. Then, her eyes softened, and he let out a breath. “Thank you for… walking me to my car.”

When she turned away from him again, Bellamy felt his chest tighten. She was about to leave, and he would have no idea if she was doing okay. “Wait,” he said, “can you text me to let me know that you got home alright?”

She blinked a few times at him. “I just… I’d worry, okay?” he added in, and he swears a smile tugged at her lips as she handed her phone over to him. He added his number quickly, accidentally mistyping his own name in his nervousness. He fixed it before handing the phone back over to her.

Without a word, she got into her car. Her hands were a bit shaky when she took the wheel, and he could see her struggling to keep herself together. He wanted to run over to her and pull her into his chest, reassuring her that she would be okay, that she would get through this, that she would be happy again…

But he didn’t. He just watched as her tan car drove away, slowly fading to gray along with everything else.

Around the time Bellamy got back to his apartment, he got a text.

 _I got home safely, so stop worrying about me_ , it said, and a small smile crept to his lips.

 _Thank you, by the way_ , she added in, and Bellamy found himself spending his entire night trying to shake the image of Clarke’s tearstained cheeks from his mind. But he failed.

 

* * *

 

Her social media presence went completely silent. No new photos, nothing on Twitter, not even a photo tag on Facebook. The only information he had gotten about Clarke was from Miller mentioning that Finn was currently living in a hotel.

Her phone number sat in his phone, and he was itching to reach out to her. Her teary eyes haunted him when he was trying to sleep at night, and it was getting harder and harder to refrain from checking in on her as weeks turned into a month. But he didn’t want to pressure her. She knew who he was. If she wanted some kind of relationship with him, she could reach out to him. He didn’t need to make things worse for her, anyway. She was probably going through a divorce, and the last thing she needed as she recovered from Finn Collins was her soulmate poking his nose into her business.

Bellamy had just gotten home from a late night at the library when his phone started ringing. He nearly dropped the phone when he saw Clarke’s name light up his screen. “Hello?” he asked before holding his breath.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. That was not exactly how most people greeted people on the phone.

“Wrong number?” he teased.

“No, I just…” she sighed, and he kicked his shoes off. “I didn’t think you would pick up.”

“Why wouldn’t I pick up?” he asked. He had literally been jumping every time he got a text or phone call, secretly hoping that it was her.

“I mean, it’s really late… and I wasn’t sure you would want to talk to me,” she explained.

“Why?” he asked, falling backwards onto his bed.

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to you in a month,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy bit his lip. At least he wasn’t the only one keeping count of how long it had been since he found her in that alleyway.

“I don’t blame you. You probably have a lot going on,” he said. “How is everything?” he asked, making a point to leave out Finn’s name.

“Okay, I guess. I’m moving into an apartment I can actually afford on my own tomorrow,” she said, and Bellamy nodded along. So, her separation from Finn wasn’t just temporary. “Look, I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should have texted first, but I just didn’t know what to say…”

“You’re fine,” he reassured. “I’m really happy to hear from you,” he confessed, and he heard a small intake of breath on her end.

“Yeah?” she asked, almost hopeful, and a small smile formed on Bellamy’s lips.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Oh, thank God,” she giggled, and it was the softest, sweetest sound he had ever heard. He threw his head back with a goofy grin on his face, so relieved to hear her make such a happy sound. “Sorry, I just… I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while but wasn’t sure how to talk to you. I mean, we met once, and I was sobbing the whole time. Fuck, I’m rambling.”

“Keep rambling,” he grinned. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Okay, well for starters, I’m sorry that the first time you saw me was on my wedding day,” she said, and he bit his lip. “Secondly, I’m sorry that the second time you saw me I was sobbing the whole time. I’m not really doing great at the whole first impressions thing.”

“No, you made one hell of a first impression on me. Don’t worry,” he blurted out without thinking, and Clarke fell silent. “I just meant you looked really nice. And at least I knew exactly who it was, instead of having a room full of three hundred people to guess from.”

“It was more than three hundred,” she snorted, and he was relieved that she wasn’t more put off by his earlier comment. “I had figured out literally the week before I saw you that it had to be a plus one. I was down to the L’s on the list. A few more days and I would have found you.”

“Were you seriously tracking down people’s plus ones?” he teased.

“I mean, I was holding out hope that whoever it was would just shoot me an email and be like ‘hey it’s me what’s up’ but _someone_ didn’t help me out,” she huffed, and he burst out laughing.

“I just watched you marry Finn and you wanted me to send you an email that said, ‘hey it’s me what’s up?’” he said while chuckling.

“I’m just saying it would have been nice,” she retorted.

“What’s your email?” he asked.

“It’s cgriffin91@ark.edu,” she said, and he immediately started typing up an email before sending it. He heard her notification go through on her phone, earning a groan. “I don’t want that email now.”

“I’m just trying to be a good soulmate and shoot you the courtesy email that you wanted,” he teased.

“Real cute,” she muttered, and he let out a yawn. “Fuck, I should let you go so you can go to sleep.”

“No, it’s okay,” he pleaded. He didn’t want her to hang up just yet. “I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow,” he lied. “You can keep talking.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you up,” she whispered, and Bellamy adjusted himself against the pillows.

“Yeah, I’m sure. If I do stop responding though, I’m asleep and you can hang up on me,” he replied. “So, what do you do, Clarke?” he asked even though he knew the answer.

This prompted her to talk about her painting, which led to them talking about art school for a good ten minutes or so. Bellamy talked about grad school a bit, not even being offended when Clarke called him a history nerd. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed up, but they covered everything from work to where they grew up. The only thing that didn’t get brought up was Finn Collins, which was a huge relief.

The last thing Bellamy remembered hearing before he fell asleep was Clarke laughing at something stupid he mumbled.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t talk every day. It was more like once a week. One of them would send a simple enough text and somehow that evolved into staying up until two in the morning when both of them had work in the morning… and he didn’t mind one bit. Those were the nights he looked forward to the most.

Bellamy was pretty sure they were friends at this point. At least, that’s what he told people when they asked. But it wasn’t like Bellamy had actually seen her since that night he found her crying. Nor did he make any plans to. He still had no idea what Clarke actually wanted as far as he was concerned. He was her soulmate, sure… but she was also going through what seemed to be a very ugly divorce. She didn’t talk to Bellamy about it. In fact, she changed the subject any time it would start to come up.

“I just don’t want to talk about him with you,” she confessed when Bellamy confronted her about it.

“But why? You can literally talk to me about anything,” he groaned. At this point, he knew all about how her mother pushed her toward med school and how Clarke went six months without speaking to her after that went down. He knew all about her father’s death. He had listened through dozens of stories about her high school relationships. She seemed to be comfortable with talking to him about anything but that.

“I just feel guilty.”

“Why? He is the one who should feel guilty, not you,” he huffed.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she stopped him before he said anything else, and it took him a few seconds for him to realize why she felt guilty.

“Clarke,” he whispered, throwing his head back. “You didn’t know.” She didn’t know about Bellamy. There were plenty of people who would never find their soulmate, either because they didn’t have one or because they never crossed paths.

“I know but—”

 “Look, I had a very serious girlfriend named Gina that I was pretty sure I was going to marry. And if she hadn’t found her soulmate and fallen madly in love with him, I probably would have. I don’t blame you. You loved Finn. I am not going to hold that against you,” he sighed. “I promise.”

He waited for her response, pressing his ear tight against the phone as he heard her exhale. “Okay,” she finally whispered, though he wasn’t sure she believed him just yet. But he would work on it. He had time… nothing but time.

She still shied away from talking about Finn, but she didn’t outright refuse when Bellamy asked her how things were going. Their communications increased a bit, with them ending up on the phone way too late at least twice a week now.

Then, there was a week straight of radio silence. Clarke didn’t respond to any of his texts. He spent that whole week reading furiously over past conversations, looking for any clue about what he might have done wrong. When a week turned into a week and a half, Bellamy let himself send yet another check in message. She didn’t respond, and Bellamy decided to call.

The phone rang too many times, and Bellamy started to get nervous. On the final ring, though, Clarke picked up. “Hey,” she murmured, but there was something off about her voice.

“Are you okay?” he asked as calmly as he could, but his voice came off panicked.

After far too many beats, she replied with a quiet and distant, “Yeah.” He didn’t like the sound of it… it was the sound of Clarke avoiding something.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. What has been going on?” he followed up.

“Nothing, I just… It’s been a crazy week,” she deflected, and he threw his head back in frustration.

“Crazy how?” he asked calmly.

“Uh, I had a big project to get done,” she stuttered out, “There was a problem with one of the works, I had dinner with my mom, I had to meet with Finn and the lawyers, and then Wells—”

“Clarke,” he interrupted before she could brush past the one thing she always avoided talking about with him. “What happened in the meeting with—”

“Don’t,” she warned, her voice breaking a bit, and Bellamy bit down hard on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. “Please, just don’t,” she pleaded, and he heard the unmistakable sound of her sniffling. Whatever happened was enough to make her cry, likely not for the first time. He had no idea how many days it had been since the meeting, but it had been silent for a week now… meaning she had likely been processing whatever happened on her own in that time. She could have been crying like this every night and he had no idea… a thought that made him feel sick.

“I just want to help,” he murmured, and it was the most honest sentence he could possibly speak to her. All he wanted since he first saw her was for her to be happy, and now that he knew her, he could help her get there somehow. “I’ve been really worried about you.”

He waited for her to dismiss his worry, to reassure him that she’s fine, to point out that he really doesn’t know her that well… but those words never came. Instead, he heard her break into a loud sob, a sound that made his heart ache. “Clarke,” he pleaded, hating that he couldn’t just physically reach out to her, to offer her some kind of comfort or at least help wipe away those tears.

Then, she asked him something he never expected to hear. “Can you come here?” she asked, and he froze. The two of them never really discussed meeting up again, though he had been itching to. He wanted to see her, but he also didn’t want to push it. He was already given more than he ever expected to with these phone calls, and he didn’t want to mess that up. “Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to—”

“No, it’s okay,” he said quickly, fearing that she would take back the invitation. “Text me your address and I’ll be right over, okay?” He was going to see her again, and his heart was pounding in excitement.

“Bellamy, seriously, you don’t have to. I’m kind of a mess right now, and I’m sure there are a lot of other ways you’d rather spend your evening,” she backtracked.

Bellamy took a deep breath. “Clarke, I want to come over,” he said seriously, hoping that his honesty would be enough to reassure her. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

She was silent for a few moments as Bellamy grabbed his keys and jacket. “Do you want me there?” he followed up when she said nothing.

“Yes,” she confessed.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy was shaking as he waited outside Clarke’s door. He shouldn’t be this nervous to see her. It wasn’t like it was the first time they met in person, granted the last time was not exactly a good meeting. Then again, Clarke was likely crying on the other side of this door, so this wasn’t really a good meeting either.

When Bellamy realized that he could see color again, he let out a breath, looking around the hallway. The only thing that revealed color was the brass doorknobs on all the apartment doors, the rest of the hallway seeming quite bleak. Clarke swung open the door, and Bellamy whipped his head back in her direction. Her eyes were a bit red from crying, though she wasn’t currently crying… which was a relief.

“Hey,” he whispered, not quite sure what else to say. This was far from the first time the sight of his soulmate had rendered him speechless, though.

“Hey,” she replied a bit shakily, gesturing for him to come inside. In the apartment, there were still boxes everywhere. He already knew this before coming over, since Clarke always seemed to be unpacking something while they were on the phone. “Sorry about the mess,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ve always wondered what a mess looks like in color,” he joked badly, but luckily, she offered him a weak smile in response. That smile was a relief, though it wasn’t the bright one he had imagined on her face while talking to her on the phone.

She brushed her blonde hair out of her face as she walked toward the kitchen. “Wine?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to figure out the best way to ask her what happened in the meeting with her lawyers. He did his best to stay out of her divorce, feeling awkward about his role in it. It wasn’t like he caused it, but he was the one who gave Clarke the information that drove her to calling it quits… not to mention that he was her soulmate, which may or may not mean something to Clarke.

The wine she poured was a deep red color, something Bellamy already knew in theory… but it was different seeing it in person. She handed him his drink before leading him toward the couch, and Bellamy still struggled with how to ask her what was happening. “Thank you, by the way,” Clarke said quietly, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “For being here.”

He opened his mouth to speak, struggling with a tactful way to prod into her personal life… but there was no easy or gentle way to ask. “What happened?” was what he settled on, and her deep blue eyes flickered down to the glass in her hands.

“Nothing major. A lot of disputes about money, and then Finn said some hurtful stuff. It’s pretty normal for these kinds of meetings, honestly,” she blew him off, and Bellamy reached over to touch her forearm, a gesture that shocked her enough to make her look up at him.

“What did he say?” he asked, and Clarke’s eyes faltered for a brief moment before she recovered.

“I don’t want to talk about that with you,” she went back to her default answer, and Bellamy suppressed a groan.

“Clarke, I want to know what made you so upset that you didn’t speak to me for a week and made you break down crying on the phone with me,” he pleaded.

Her eyes fell back down, now looking at where his hand rested on her arm. He was tempted to remove his hand from her, and probably would have if she hadn’t whispered, “I didn’t want you to come here so I could talk about it. I wanted you here so I wouldn’t be alone anymore.”

He put his glass down on the coffee table before taking Clarke’s from her hand and doing the same, before pulling her into his chest… just moments before she broke into another sob. “Shh,” he murmured as he rubbed small circles into her back. She heaved into his shirt, and he rested his head on top of hers, closing his eyes. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised. She would. He would make sure of it. Whatever she needed, he would find a way to help her. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing that Clarke was in this much pain… he just wanted to make the pain stop.

After a few minutes of her heartbreaking tears, Bellamy finally realized he was _holding_ her. He was holding his soulmate in his arms, rubbing circles in her back with one hand and cupping the back of her head with the other as he kept her close to him… and it felt perfect… like a perfect fit. Her skin was warm against his, the smell of her hair overwhelmed his senses, the feeling of her breathing made it easier for him to breathe as well…

Then, he felt her soft hand graze his neck, a gesture that knocked the breath out of him. He looked down at her, seeing her adjust herself against him. Her cheek was now resting against his chest, no longer burying her face into his chest, as her hand rested on the collar of his now tear-soaked shirt.

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised again, and she nuzzled her head closer into his chest. He leaned back a bit, getting more comfortable, and Clarke did the same. He wanted to say something else to her, but he was scared to break the spell. She was finally becoming peaceful again, clinging to him for comfort. He didn’t want to do something that would make her pull away, not when he had her so perfectly in his arms.

So, he just watched her as her breathing evened out, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where he began to fall. He couldn’t take his eyes off her even if he tried. Even with tearstained cheeks, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen… and all he wanted was to make her feel better.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she whispered after half an hour of silence.

“You’re not a mess,” he murmured, and her eyes were fixed on a crease of his shirt that she was fiddling with, almost absently. “Finn just got under your skin. It happens.”

“He said I’m hard to love,” she said, not moving her eyes from the crease she was smoothing out. Bellamy’s eyes widened down at her, hating the almost ambivalent way that she spoke those words… as if she believed them too.

“You know that’s bullshit, right?” he snapped, and her eyes jerked up to meet his finally, widening curiously up at him. “Finn is an idiot.”

“He’s not—”

“He didn’t realize what was right in front of him. Trust me. He’s an idiot,” he interrupted, throwing his head back in frustration. How could Clarke not see that what Finn was saying was ludicrous? The desperate babblings of a man who fucked up. Clarke was smart, brilliant, kind, and loving… the kind of person that anyone could fall in love with easily. Bellamy was already out of his mind with how much Clarke invaded his thoughts, and tonight wasn’t going to make that any easier. Loving Clarke wasn’t hard. It was inevitable, unavoidable, and perfect.

When he looked back down, Clarke’s wide eyes were gazing at him. He bit his lip nervously, and slowly, she rested back down on his chest, likely hearing the way his heart started pounding for her. He sat there frozen for a few minutes, unsure of what else he could say to comfort her. At least she wasn’t crying anymore… because those tears were ripping his heart out.

His hand cradled the back of her head, and she made the happiest little sigh at the contact. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as he ran his fingers through her curls, a soft smile tugging at her lips… so he didn’t dare stop. No, he kept going until her breathing completely evened out and she fell asleep on his chest.

Bellamy watched her sleep for a while, loving how peaceful she looked once she drifted off. If only she could feel this at peace all the time…

Carefully, he picked her up, resolving to tuck her into bed before leaving… it was the responsible thing for him to do, despite how badly he wanted to stay there. She stirred a bit as he carried her, tucking her head sleepily into his neck as he made his way toward her bedroom.

He set her down carefully before pulling the blankets over her. She shifted to get comfortable, rolling onto her side and gripping a pillow in her arms.

It was near impossible to walk away from the peaceful sight, but eventually he did. Everything faded back to gray as soon as he hit the elevator of her building, and he pretended to be okay with that.

 

* * *

 

Occasionally, Miller would drop by the TA’s office on his lunch break, dragging Bellamy away from grading papers for an hour or so before heading back to the office. It had been a while since he had been able to, making Bellamy really surprised to see Miller hanging out in the doorframe with an impatient look on his face.

Bellamy checked his phone quickly, checking to see if Clarke had texted him back. She hadn’t, which he shouldn’t be surprised by. She hadn’t been super responsive today, probably because she was really focused on getting her current project done. So, he tucked his phone into his bag before heading over toward Miller. “Grounders?” he asked, and a smirk formed on Miller’s face.

“Where else?” he teased, and the two of them made their way out of the building. As they walked toward the parking lot, Miller was ranting about his work day… to which Bellamy was only half listening. Bellamy had struggled with staying focused a lot these days. He wasn’t sleeping as much as he used to, which he could only partially blame Clarke for. It wasn’t her fault that he insisted on staying up late to talk with her, despite her constantly reminding him that he needs to get a full night of sleep. Being exhausted was a small price to pay for the chance to talk to her. He hadn’t dared broach the subject of seeing her again, and she hadn’t extended an invitation. So, the small period of time where he was done with grading and she had finally stumbled home late from the studio was all he really had with her.

“Alright, who is she?” Miller huffed as soon as they sat down, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him. “Come on. You know what I’m talking about. You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?” Bellamy snapped, and Miller smirked.

“That distracted thing you only do when you’re hung up on someone new,” Miller deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at him. Before Bellamy could answer, the waiter came by to get their drink orders. As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, “So, who is it?”

“It’s not like that,” Bellamy deflected.

“If you don’t start talking, I’m going to bring Octavia into this and you know as well as I do that she won’t stop coming after you until she gets an answer,” he threatened jokingly, and Bellamy let out a groan as he rested back into his seat.

“I found my soulmate,” Bellamy begrudgingly mumbled, and Miller’s eyes widened. “Stop, it’s not like that.”

“Why the fuck not?” Miller chuckled.

“Because I found her the day she married Finn Collins,” Bellamy said, and Miller’s teasing face fell. Bellamy was grateful when the waiter came back with his water, and Bellamy started chugging it.

“Clarke Griffin?” he whispered as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, and Bellamy nodded. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“Because she married someone else. It really didn’t seem that relevant anymore,” he muttered.

“They’re getting a divorce. I think it’s even getting finalized this week,” Miller said as if this were somehow news to Bellamy.

“I know,” he replied, and Miller raised an eyebrow at that. “Look, she knows who I am. We’re friends now.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it now?” he said, and Bellamy shot him a warning look. “Seriously, you two are just friends? You find your soulmate, who is incredible by the way, and you’re just going to be her friend?”

“It’s complicated. She’s still recovering from everything that happened with Finn,” he sighed, and Miller put his drink down. “I’m just… I’m trying to do this at her pace. Look, it isn’t like how Octavia found Lincoln or how Murphy found Emori. She’s not in a good place, and I can wait.”

“Oh God, you’re already in love with her, aren’t you?” Miller grinned, and Bellamy bit down on his lip. “Don’t even try lying to me.”

He opened his mouth to speak before snapping it shut again. No, he couldn’t lie. And there was no point. Miller had already seen it all over Bellamy’s face. He was in love with Clarke. He couldn’t hide that fact even if he tried.

 

* * *

 

Clarke’s birthday fell two weeks after her divorce was finalized. Those two weeks had been full of drunken texts and phone calls from her after Raven or Wells dragged her out for the night in an attempt to cheer her up. Her birthday was no different, meaning Bellamy planned to stay up wait to hear her drunken complaining about having to go out.

“They’re just worried about you,” he reassured, and Clarke let out a groan.

“Why would I want to go to a club on my birthday? There are people there,” she whined, and Bellamy chuckled at her. “I really don’t like people all that much.”

“Should I hang up then?” he teased.

“No, you don’t count,” she decided, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah?” he whispered quietly, his heart pounding a bit.

“No, you’re my favorite and there’s no way you would have dragged me to a club on my birthday,” she said, and he was still beaming at the idea of him being her favorite.

“What did you want to do on my birthday?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s stupid,” she sighed, and he could hear her plop back onto her bed.

“Tell me,” he pleaded, turning on his side so he could get more comfortable.

“It’s just… there’s something I’ve always wanted to do but I’ve never been able to before,” she started, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “You see, there’s this art museum downtown that my mom and dad used to take me to all the time. It has some of my favorite paintings in it.”

“I’m sure if you told Wells you wanted to go there for your birthday, he would have taken you,” Bellamy pointed out.

“That’s not…” she trailed off, and Bellamy sat up. She wasn’t making any sense, though that was probably because of how much she had to drink tonight. “I just… I’ve never seen my favorite paintings in color. That’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” Bellamy sucked in a breath, processing what she was really saying. She needed him to go with her to the museum so that she could see her favorite paintings in color. “My dad could always see them in color and he tried describing to me what it was like, but I didn’t get it because I couldn’t see it. I just… I want to see it. Fuck, I’m rambling again.”

“How late is the museum open tomorrow?” he asked with a growing smile on his face.

“I think until six,” she said.

“My last class ends at four,” he replied, looking down at his schedule. “Want to meet me there at 4:30?”

“Wait, seriously?” she asked as if she didn’t quite believe him.

“It is your birthday,” he replied.

“Bellamy, you really don’t have to,” she sighed.

“I want to,” he answered, and he wondered if she was smiling the same way that he was.

The smile he imagined on the phone didn’t compare to the bright one he saw when he met her on the steps of the museum the next day. She was so excited to get inside that the two of them hardly exchanged any words. Bellamy was relieved that she was so preoccupied, which meant that she didn’t notice what an anxious wreck he had become while waiting all day to see her.

He had known her for months, so he probably shouldn’t be so nervous to be around her. But he was terrified he would cross some kind of line. The two of them still hadn’t spoken about what they were to each other, and for all he knew, she just saw him as just her friend.

But his nerves settled as she pulled him through the museum, talking his ear off about each of the paintings she took him to. He always knew which ones were her favorites because her whole face would light up and she’d forget that Bellamy was standing beside her for a good moment before she remembered to talk to him about the work.

A lot of the techniques she was describing went right over his head, but he loved listening to her talk about them nonetheless. She loved art, and Bellamy was pretty sure Clarke never seemed as happy as she did today in this museum. Her blue eyes would widen as she took in each painting, as if she were seeing them all for the first time… which in a way, she kind of was. She spent her whole life only being able to see them in black and white.

There was one painting that she made a strange face at, but she didn’t explain why. She excused herself quietly as she slipped to the bathroom, leaving Bellamy to stare at the painting.  Bellamy studied it a bit more closely. It certainly wasn’t his favorite of the artist’s works so far. The use of color on the other works was far more vibrant, more magical almost. Despite using some lovely reds and oranges throughout the sunset, it felt dead somehow.

“You can literally see the difference before and after he found his soulmate,” a man said behind him, and Bellamy turned back to see an older man talking with his wife. When Bellamy looked back at the painting, he saw what he was talking about. The artist painted this before he could see color. It explained why all the other paintings nearly jumped off the canvas while this one felt like it was just going through the motions.

Bellamy was so caught up in staring at the work that he didn’t notice when Clarke stepped back beside him again. “This one used to be one of my favorites.”

“I heard he painted this before he could see color,” Bellamy said absently. When he looked over at Clarke, she had a concerned look on her face. Her eyes were fixed on the canvas in front of them, but she looked lost in thought. It took him a few minutes to connect the dots. “You’ve never seen color while painting before,” he realized, and she bit her lip.

“I don’t know what anything I’ve ever painted actually looks like,” she whispered.

“Well, let’s go find out,” he said, and her eyes flickered up to him, widening slightly as if she were asking if he were serious. “How far away is your studio?” he asked, because he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also curious about what her art looks like in color.

By the time they had gotten to the studio, there was no one there. Clarke had often said that she was the only one who came there in the evenings, which is when she was the most inspired. She wasted no time darting over to where she kept some of her incomplete works. He walked around the studio, looking at her completed works that were up on the walls. He could see why she was suddenly so worried about her own works. She had an assistant whose soulmate worked here as well, meaning she could see color and help Clarke with color decisions when she needed the assistance. But it wasn’t the same as being able to see it for herself. The paintings were lovely, just like they were in black and white. But Bellamy could also tell that Clarke couldn’t see the color for herself while painting it.

When he caught up with Clarke again, she was writing herself notes for each of the works. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” she mumbled.

“Should I pretend to be shocked that you’re talented even in color?” he teased, watching her lips twitch up into a small smile again.

“Shut up,” she murmured, but her cheeks were turning pink from blushing.

They fell back into silence as Clarke put post its on the works, writing down color changes to come back to. It would probably just be easier if Clarke could paint while she saw color… which led him to blurt out, “Would you want me to stop by a few times a week so you could actually see the colors you’re using?”

Her beautiful blue eyes widened at him as she dropped her pencil. “Would you actually do that?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he answered, thinking through his schedule. “I mean, I can grade papers anywhere. I can just go sit in a corner somewhere while you work for a bit,” he said, and the small smile on her lips started to grow.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked excitedly, and he nodded. Of course, he would come by. Seeing her in person sure as hell beat waiting all night for her to call him. And she seemed so happy when she could view all the works earlier in color… so getting to do the same for her own on a regular basis would make it all worth it.

Before he could get a word out, Clarke threw her arms around him in a tight hug and smacked a quick kiss to his cheek. She pulled away and started talking about how much this meant to her, and Bellamy was just frozen as he watched this incredible girl pack up her works again, feeling that kiss burn perfectly into his skin.

It wasn’t until he was alone that night that he let his hand slide over where her lips had been for just a moment, playing that beautiful moment over and over again as his entire body warmed at the memory.

 

* * *

 

“How do I know that you’re not just painting me reading?” he teased from across the room after Clarke warned him not to look yet.

“You caught me. I call it ‘Grumpy Man Dreams of Being Odysseus,’” she joked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Odysseus was a slut, so your title is inaccurate,” he snapped back, and a beautiful chuckle escaped her lips. They had fallen into this comfortable routine. He would stop by three times a week when he was done with classes. He’d grade or read for class while she worked, though he wasn’t always very focused. It was hard to be when Clarke was so close. He would constantly steal glances at her as she worked, fighting back laughter when he would see green paint smeared on her face or bite down a smile when he caught her smiling at her canvas.

“So, the grumpy part was accurate?” she teased, and he snapped is book shut to playfully glare at her. “I’m going to take that as a yes,” she grinned triumphantly before refocusing on the canvas in front of her.

Everyone who came by the studio figured out that Bellamy was Clarke’s soulmate. It was apparently obvious, since her work had changed so drastically since Bellamy started coming in… not that she ever let him see what she was working on. He should have known that she would be a perfectionist, honestly.

Her assistant had asked him a few days ago about how they found each other, and Bellamy told a very vague version of the story, leaving out the part where he found her sobbing in an alley over Finn. He had also caught a few other artists who worked in the space quietly ask Clarke about him, though he never caught her explanation of their relationship, which he hated. He was searching desperately for some clue about what she was feeling. Her divorce had been finalized for a while now, and she seemed to have moved on from everything… but that didn’t mean she wanted to be _with_ Bellamy.

He tried to shake that conundrum from his mind as he went back to reading, knowing there would be no resolution to his internal struggle today. After a while, he was able to focus again on his reading, and made a good dent in the book before he caught Clarke standing right in front of him with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “So, do you actually want to see what I’ve been working on?” she asked, and he jumped up, slamming the book shut before dropping it on the seat behind him. “Okay, it’s still not done, so be gentle,” she prefaced as she walked him back toward her workspace, and when Bellamy’s eyes found the canvas, his jaw went slack.

He knew the bridge she was painting immediately, but he had never seen it look so alive. His eyes were rapidly darting back and forth across the canvas, unable to focus on one thing at once. The whole work was so vibrant, far more so than he had seen in her earlier works. “What do you think?” she asked quietly, and Bellamy turned his head back to look at her. Her eyes were wide and curious… but also nervous, as if she wasn’t sure that he would like it.

“It’s incredible,” he reassured before looking back at it. His eyes caught on the color of the water below the bridge this time, wondering if Clarke even knew that she used the exact shade of her eyes for it… his favorite color.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring at it, but eventually Clarke’s sigh broke him out of the trance. “So, what is something you’ve always wanted to see in color?” she asked, and he blinked a few times in confusion. “You went with me so that I could see those paintings in color. The least I can do is return the favor somehow.”

Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at that, wondering what he could possibly want to see in color. _Everything_ , he realized. He didn’t want to stop seeing the world in color because he didn’t want Clarke to be too far away from him. He didn’t put much thought into color before he first saw Clarke. He had never dreamt about it, not like Clarke had. He wasn’t an artist who craved it. It was beautiful, sure. But the only colors he really cared about were the blue of her eyes or the pink on her cheeks when he said something to make her blush or the golden curls that he always spotted first when he was meeting her.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, reaching forward to wipe the green paint from her cheek. A pink blush replaced the green he wiped off, and he found himself flinching away from her skin quickly before he got lost in the sight.

 

* * *

 

Clarke’s newest work was on display in a joint showing downtown with a few of her other artist friends that he had met repeatedly in the studio. He wasn’t the only one of her friends to show up. Raven stopped by, shooting him a curious look when she saw him, but didn’t push any further when he simply explained that he and Clarke had become friends. Bellamy had finally met Wells, who very obviously knew who Bellamy was to Clarke, a fact that made him kind of nervous. Clarke had only been able to stop by and talk for a few moments before being pulled away again. She was busy tonight, but a very happy busy it seemed, so he relaxed… at least until he saw Finn Collins show up.

“This fucker,” Raven muttered, and Bellamy’s jaw tensed.

“Clarke knew he was coming,” Wells interjected, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him. Clarke hadn’t mentioned that to him at all… and she usually talked to him about most things. “They have a lot of mutual friends, and they’re trying to practice being in the same room as each other again so that it doesn’t make things weird.”

“Well, he’s coming over toward us, so it’s gonna get weird anyway,” Raven muttered, turning around to put her elbows on the table. “Do I have to be nice?” she asked Wells.

“Yes,” he said pointedly, and she let out a small huff, one Finn clearly didn’t hear as he walked up to them.

“Hey, guys,” he said, and Raven plastered a smile onto her face as she greeted him. Finn’s eyes drifted over to Bellamy, as if to ask why he was here, but refrained from saying anything.

“How have you been?” Wells asked tactfully before Raven could get a word out.

“I’m doing alright. I rushed right over from work, actually,” he said.

“I’m sure you did,” Raven muttered, and Bellamy was thankful that a waiter was walking by with small desserts at that exact moment.

“Ooh, grab me one with the orange icing. Those are my favorite so far,” Wells said, and Bellamy grabbed him one, before getting one for himself. When he looked up again, Finn was raising an eyebrow at Wells, and Bellamy realized that Wells just revealed that he indeed had a soulmate.

“That’s new,” Finn grinned, and with a huff, Raven broke away from the table and headed toward the bar.

“Yeah, it is,” Wells smiled. “I know how you don’t believe in soulmates and all… but it’s been good for me so far.”

“That’s good. And it’s not that I don’t believe in them. I know they exist, so that would be very stupid of me. I just don’t have a lot of faith in them,” Finn replied a bit quieter, and Bellamy found himself looking for where Clarke had been dragged off to. “Clarke was really the only other person I knew that had the same kind of problem with them, and all,” he continued, and Bellamy snapped back into focus.

“And what kind of problem is that?” Bellamy asked without thinking, but it was something he desperately wanted to know.

Before Finn could say anything, Clarke came back to the table, giving Finn an awkwardly cordial hug before standing between Wells and Bellamy. “Your painting looks great,” Finn offered, even though Bellamy knew for a fact that he hadn’t even walked around yet. Wells brought up Finn’s work again, changing the subject and Bellamy was relieved for the distraction.

“You okay?” Clarke asked him, and he waved her off. Now wasn’t the time to bring up his concerns about how Clarke saw him. Tonight was about her and what she’s been accomplishing, not about a stray sentence from her ex husband unnerving Bellamy to the point where he couldn’t even force a smile.

Luckily, Clarke’s assistant swung by before Clarke could push the issue, asking her about something in her office. “Oh, it’ll be in the top drawer in the red folder,” Clarke answered, and Bellamy saw Finn’s head jerk toward her. Clarke immediately turned back around and asked Wells if she could borrow his phone, clearly not realizing that she had just revealed that she could see color now in front of Finn.

Wells and Clarke weren’t paying attention as Finn processed this, and after a few beats, Finn looked at Bellamy in realization. Now that he had a real explanation for Bellamy’s presence, Finn was sizing him up, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him, practically daring him to say something. And for a moment, he thought Finn would actually say something. But instead, he let out a sad, defeated sigh, and refocused his attention back to Wells who was getting really anxious about Clarke having his phone in her hands. “You aren’t allowed to text anyone,” he snapped, and Clarke held the phone just far enough out of his reach as she started typing out a message.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy wasn’t planning on getting drunk, honestly. He hated being drunk. But it was a really exciting night. Murphy had told all the guys that he was going to propose to Emori, meaning they all had a big reason to celebrate.

Of course, Bellamy was drunk texting Clarke. He already thought about her enough while sober, but when he was drunk, he just couldn’t help but text her his entire stream of consciousness. She was amused, he thought, sending him teasing messages back and offering to come drive him home. He would have said no, but the idea of seeing her right now sounded too perfect. 

So, after a few more drinks, he asked her to come get him and drive him home. Miller teased him relentlessly about it, which is how everyone else at the apartment found out about Bellamy’s soulmate. He’d be annoyed in the morning, but for now it was kind of a relief to be able to talk about it, albeit drunkenly.

When he started seeing color, he could feel his entire face light up… because it meant he was about to see _her_. “Clarke!” he shouted excitedly when she came in through the door, smirking at him.

“Hey, ready to go home?” she giggled, and Bellamy stumbled to his feet. He did a mock salute to Murphy, struggling to hide his laugh, while Clarke wrapped her arm around his waist and helped guide him to the door. “How much did you drink?” she laughed as they made their way to the elevator.

“All of it,” he mumbled, a little too proud of his stupid answer. He caught Clarke beaming up at him, likely fighting the urge to laugh at him right now, and fuck, she was beautiful. Too beautiful. What did he ever do to earn a soulmate like her? “Murphy is gonna ask Emori to marry him.”

“Who is Emori?” Clarke asked as they stepped onto the elevator.

“His soulmate,” Bellamy replied.

“Ah,” she replied in understanding, and Bellamy leaned on her a bit more. She smelled so damn good. Maybe it was her shampoo or maybe she just naturally smelled this perfect.

“You’re like my favorite person ever,” he mumbled as he rested his head on top of hers.

“Because I’m driving your drunk ass home?” she teased, and he nodded. “Is that all I’m good for?” she chuckled.

“No, I also love your smile,” he mumbled sleepily. The elevator doors clicked open, and Clarke started leading him out toward the lobby. “Wait,” he stopped her. “Am I your favorite person ever?” he asked, and there was that smile he loved so much, accompanied by the sweetest sounding laugh to have ever graced his ears. “This is very important, Clarke.”

“Yes, you’re my favorite person,” she chuckled as she dragged him toward the doors. Her fingers linked with his as she took his hand, and Bellamy froze for a moment, taking in the sight of her smaller hand in his. “Bellamy,” she said, snapping him out of the trance. He remembered to keep walking and managed to make it all the way out to her car without stopping again.

Her hand left his again when she got him into the passenger seat, and his hand immediately felt so empty. He hated the few seconds he waited for Clarke to get around to her side of the car. He leaned a bit closer toward her seat as she pulled out of the complex, aching to hold her hand again. “Can I hold your hand?” he asked, and he swears a smile formed on her lips as she took her free hand in his.

He was beaming at the sight of her hand in his again. He loved it. He would hold her hand all the time if she’d let him. He’d never stop, honestly.

“What?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy blinked a few times, trying to figure out if he had accidentally said some of that out loud.

“What?” he deflected, trying to play the drunk card to get off the hook for whatever trouble he was getting himself into this time. She didn’t push the subject, and Bellamy went back to watching the beautiful sight of her hand in his. He didn’t want her to let go again.

When they got to his building, he found himself leaning on Clarke a bit more. She kept a firm grip around his waist as she got him up to his apartment, and he found himself already starting to get sad that she was going to leave soon.

“Which way is your room?” she asked.

“Other side of the kitchen,” he mumbled, and she began leading him that way. “Do you know how great you are?” he asked, looking down at her as she led him into his room. “You’re just perfect.”

“You’re so drunk,” she chuckled as she helped him sit down on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re not listening,” he whined, grabbing her hand again for emphasis. “Look me in the eye and tell me you know how great you are,” he said seriously, and the smile that erupted across her face was almost too beautiful to look at. But he couldn’t look away either.

“I know how great I am,” she humored him before patting his thigh. “I’m going to get you some water. Don’t move.” He whined when she pulled away from him, and then he threw himself backwards on his bed.

A year ago, he was beaten up about Gina and hated the idea of soulmates. Now, he had one and she was _everything_. The only problem was that he didn’t know if she wanted him the same way he desperately wanted her. “Bell, sit up,” she said as she came back in. When Bellamy tried on his own and failed, Clarke crossed over to him to help. She sat down beside him, holding out a glass of water for him.

He took it, before narrowing his eyes at her. “Do you believe in soulmates?” he blurted out. He’d regret the question in the morning, of course. But he was just drunk enough to let it slip.

“Of course, I do,” she said as she nudged the water closer to him to make him take a sip.

“Finn said you didn’t have faith in them like him,” Bellamy mumbled, and that caught Clarke’s attention. He probably shouldn’t have revealed that much, but Finn’s words had been haunting him ever since he heard them. If she didn’t have faith in them, that would explain so much about her… but he also needed to understand why. If he could, he would reassure her. He would be a good soulmate to Clarke. He was already doing everything he could to make her happy, and he’d just keep doing that if she let him.

“I didn’t,” she finally said after a long pause.

“Why?”

“Bellamy,” she sighed, and he rested his head on her shoulder… just praying that she would keep talking so that he could understand. “I don’t know. It has a lot to do with how my parents were toward the end of their marriage. They were soulmates, but it just wasn’t enough. I think if my dad had lived longer, they would have gotten a divorce.” He let out a sigh. That made sense, and it probably couldn’t have been easy to process at such a young age. It wasn’t like seeing what happened with his mom’s soulmate didn’t mess up Bellamy for a long time. “Then, I met Finn, and it just became easier to write off soulmates altogether. No one had ever loved me like he did, which was such a relief after going so long thinking that no one would ever love me like that,” she confessed, and he tilted his head up to look at her, praying there weren’t any tears forming in her eyes. But she wasn’t crying. In fact, she seemed just fine. She took his hand in hers, as if to prove that to him.

“What about now? What do you think about soulmates now?” he had to ask, and a ghost of a smile formed on her lips as she looked over at him.

“How about I tell you when you’re sober and will actually remember it?” she teased, and he let out a huff. She tapped the glass in his hand, reminding him to drink the water.

“Or you could just tell me twice,” he mumbled into his glass, and she giggled in response.

“Are you going to be okay if I go home?” she asked, and he let out a sigh. Yeah, he’d be fine, but he’d miss her. But he nodded anyway. She pulled her hand out of his grasp, and he winced at the loss of contact.

But he felt her cup his cheek next before pressing a slow kiss to his other cheek, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered closed so he could focus all his attention on the feeling of her soft lips against his skin. This time, when she pulled away, he didn’t hesitate to rest his hand over where her lips had been. “If I had known my soulmate was going to be like you, I never would have lost faith in soulmates,” she whispered before standing up, and his jaw went slack as he watched her walk out of his bedroom.

If he had known his soulmate was going to be like her, he would have done everything he could to find her sooner… because he was having a hard time figuring out how he ever existed without her.

 

* * *

 

He woke up to a text from Clarke saying that she would be at the studio all day and that he could come by if he felt up to it. A lot of last night was a blur, but that kiss to his cheek and the words she said afterward were perfectly clear. He could still feel that kiss lingering on his skin.

He took a quick shower and downed as much coffee as it took to feel human again. He took his time getting ready, feeling like a ball of anxiety as he thought about what he would say to Clarke when he saw her. He wasn’t sure words could do what he needed said justice. And there was no way she didn’t already know. Everyone who had ever seen them together knew that Bellamy was hopelessly in love with her.

He didn’t come to any decision about what to say while he drove over, and he opted to just walk in like it was any other time that he came in so that Clarke could paint while seeing color. Her face lit up when she saw him, and his entire body froze in response. He loved it when she looked at him like that, and after what she said last night, he could only hope the look in her eyes was because she shared his feelings. “Hey,” he offered weakly, and her grin only grew.

“How are you feeling?” she asked smugly, and a slight groan escaped his lips. “Guess you’re not in the mood to go for a walk with me, then?” He blinked a few times, confused. “I thought about something else I wanted to see in color since you never came up with a list of your own,” she reminded, and he had totally forgotten that he was supposed to come up with something he wanted to see in color. “We can do it another time.”

“No, let’s do it now,” he decided. And in less than a second, Clarke had already grabbed him by the hand and was dragging him out the door. She didn’t tell him where they were going, but she seemed to be pretty serious about the walking part.  She took him up the street, ignoring all his questions about where they were going.

Then, she pulled him toward a gallery. “It’s closed, Clarke,” he pointed out, and with a smirk, she pulled out keys from her purse. “What is going on?” he chuckled as she unlocked the door. Then, she gripped his hand again and pulled him inside with her.

“I got this idea a while ago, and Wells helped me get up the courage to actually go through with it,” she explained, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her as she flipped the light on. Obviously, this was not like one of their field trips to see something in color for the first time.

When he looked around, he noticed her paintings up on the walls. “Is that one of your older ones?” he asked, walking toward the back wall. It was one of the ones he recognized from when he stalked her online portfolio before he even met her. As he looked down the wall, he realized they were all from that particular group.

He turned around to look at Clarke and spotted all her newer ones on the other side of the gallery. “I call it: Before and After,” she said, tucking her hands into her pockets sheepishly. He looked back at the older ones before looking at her newest ones.

“Oh, before and after you saw color,” he realized. It was a cool concept. It was completely night and day between the two sides of the room. The older works were beautiful but not quite _Clarke_ , and the newer ones came to life in a way that none of the older ones came close to.

“No,” she said, and he finally looked at Clarke with furrowed eyebrows. “Before and after _you_ ,” she corrected, and his lips parted. “I mean, I’m not going to lie, being able to see color changed a lot about my work, but the overall feeling of what I’ve been doing didn’t change just because I knew what blue looked like all the sudden,” she explained quickly, her eyes now diverting away from him.

He took slow steps toward her as she kept talking nervously. “I don’t know. I just started relaxing more, feeling a bit more like myself as I worked. I felt happier when I painted than I had in a while, and I spent most of the time that I was painting thinking about you. Fuck, I’m rambling again,” she said, pushing her hair back behind her ears nervously.

“Keep rambling,” he grinned, and her eyes flickered up to meet his.

“I just… I don’t—” she cut herself off, clearly frustrated with how her speech was going… but Bellamy loved it. His heart was pounding as he hung on her every word. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at explaining what I’m feeling, so I thought it would be easier if I just showed you what you meant to me,” she said before biting her lip nervously, and Bellamy looked back around the room. This was meant to show _him_ how she felt. He’d describe the “before” side as content, safe, but also not quite like the Clarke he knew and loved. But the “after” side… the side that was supposed to represent what she felt with him… it was vibrant, powerful, and beautiful… overwhelming at times, but so very perfectly her. It looked just like how Clarke made him feel.

When his eyes returned to meet hers again, she was peering up at him nervously with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. He stepped toward her again, this time not stopping until he had closed the distance between them. A small gasp escaped her lips as he cupped her cheek with his hand. He thought he would be more nervous when this happened, but he felt perfectly calm as he leaned forward to take her lips with his. His heart only started pounding once his lips were against hers. When she melted into him, he felt like his entire body was on fire… but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

His thoughts were conflicted between wondering why he waited so long to kiss her and the realization that he would have waited forever for this if he had to. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked against her lips before kissing her again, this time more desperate than the last.

“Hopefully,” she whispered before pressing a quick peck to his lips, “as much as I love you.” Her cheeks were flushed pink, her lips were a deeper red than normal from the way he had been kissing her, and those beautiful blue eyes were beaming at him as if he were the most precious thing to her. Color had never looked so beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Hope you liked it! Come hang with me on tumblr and twitter (@asroarke)


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